The Fool and the Maiden
by Hannah's Golem
Summary: Just a little R/Her fluff…So much candy coating the Grangers would have my head if they knew how I am abusing their daughter. Included in this story an early morning kiss and some bedhead.


 **The Fool and the Maiden: _A Ron and Hermione Story _**

_Just a little R/Her fluff…So much candy coating the Grangers would have my head if they knew how I am abusing their daughter.  _

_Thank you to my very kind and patient beta readers – **Jade B and Jesabelle **– who agreed to sacrifice their time for mere fluff and provided many helpful tips. _

She broke the kiss for a moment to look at him and take it in - to take _him in.  He was in definite need of some stringmints or a peppermint humbug if he was going to catch her this early.  Still, she mused, he looked good standing there barefoot in his pyjamas.   His hair was flashing orange in the early light and sticking up a bit like Harry's, as his mouth hung slightly open.  She wondered if he was really worried about his essay on the properties of hemlock.  Potions didn't seem important, with his long nose inches away from her face.  She leaned in and let it graze her cheek._

"You know, this is strange," he sighed.  

"Oh, lovely!  Don't I feel special?," she replied acidly.

He was rattling now, trying to find something to make up for what he had said, wishing all the while he was mute.  He didn't want her angry.  She'd back off and go away and he couldn't stand that.  It would be too hard starting this all over again. He wondered if he'd ever just be able to walk up and kiss her for no reason. Not that his plotting wasn't incredibly transparent.  She wasn't stupid enough to really believe he'd come down for help with his essay.  He'd only wanted to catch her before everyone woke up.    
  
Just as he lost track of what he was saying, she leaned into him." It isn't strange; not to me."  Her warm, forgiving tone implied she knew everything.    
  
And didn't she?  She _always_ knew everything before he did.  She even seemed to know how to kiss and he was sure he didn't at all.  It had only felt awkward and mad to be kissing her.

When he didn't speak, she grew anxious, and worried that he might regret beginning whatever it was they were beginning.  Her stomach began to lurch.  It was too horrible not knowing.  Nervously she asked him if he had any regrets about her or them.  "Was there an 'us' between them?"  She wasn't even sure what to call all this.  "Was he her boyfriend?"  That sounded so juvenile and too fragile to describe how she felt.  Parvati had a new boyfriend every month.  They hadn't talked about any of this and she wished she'd had thought out a plan. 

 He couldn't tell her he didn't have regrets.  He did.  She was his friend and this was going to make everything queer.  Silently he set his jaw in defiance of whatever might happen and held her tighter, as if to say it was regret mingled with satisfaction. 

"Well, _I_ always knew and I don't regret it at _all_," she added, pompously, eased by his apparent confidence. 

 "Gee, thanks Percy.  Anything _else_ you know that you'd like to share?" he mumbled happily into her hair.  

In a huff, she was gone from his grasp.  He regretted being smart with her.

"I know many things you can't even imagine." she said loftily. 

"Oh come on," he sighed.  "I was only kidding."  __

  
His eyes were glittering with mirth and she couldn't resist forgiving him.  Never could.  That was just something that she couldn't hold back.  Maybe it was because she knew he didn't mean all those asinine things he said.  Even when he did mean them, she knew he'd regret it later.  He always did.  She felt positively discombobulated.  

"I know. But you might just _try _not teasing me for a second or two." she scolded.  

"Then what would I do for fun? My potions essay?," he scoffed.  "If you think I'd rather work, you're confusing me with yourself."

She sighed again and pointed out bitterly that he was in good company.  "Teasing me seems to be the fashion."  

This did not please him at all.  It was one thing for _him_ to tease, but others had better not.  He immediately spat out, "Malfoy!" without a thought.

"No, it's not him _this_ time.  Lavender has got it into her stupid head that Harry and I are… are..." and she faltered not knowing how he would react.

"What's that brainless twit been on about?"  

She had to tell him, if everyone was going to think it.  "That Harry and I...are, erm, … dating," she finally blurted out.   

The stiffening of his body was immediate as a grimace flashed across his face before he relaxed.  "I suppose it makes sense. Everybody believed that idiocy during the Tournament.  Even my mum," he finished off with a laugh.

"You don't mind?" she asked incredulous.

"Of course, I ruddy mind!  Everyone thinking Harry will …will," but then he broke off, resigning himself to the reality.  "But it's to be expected.  I almost expected it myself."

And suddenly she was offended again, asking questions so quickly he couldn't even answer them.  How was it that he managed to anger her so often?  How were they even friends?  He watched bemused as her mouth moved a mile a minute and her hair swept into her narrowed eyes. 

"If you would just be quiet, I could answer.  Honestly!," he cried.  Halting, she glared at him. If he was going to speak to her like that, this had better be good.  

Having quieted her, which was no small feat, he eloquently pondered the logic of Harry Potter.  "Well you're a _girl_ and _he's_ Harry.  The hero, really.  Like in stories.  Great destiny and all that.  Like King Arthur." 

"And that would make you?," she teased, arching an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged. He hadn't thought out the whole scenario and now he felt foolish.  For a moment, he thought that he should tell her he was the Fool.  Harry Potter's jester.

She couldn't resist forgiving him, not when he stood before her shuffling his feet, while the tips of his ears were burning red.  But he was an idiot, she thought, if he believed she'd just end up with Harry because he was going to be a great hero, as though she hadn't her own mind and heart. 

"Well, I'm not in the least pleased with the implication that I'm Guinevere.  Why is the girl always so impotent in these stories?  I could trounce you in a duel any day and twice on Sundays!"  She paused pondering him for a moment.  "But I suppose that would make you Lancelot to Harry's Arthur."

She was smiling again.  "It seems fitting," he acknowledged smiling back. "So long as it doesn't end up like the chessboard."   That memory sent a shiver down his spine and she almost felt it.  Unable to look at him, she fixed her eyes on his bare freckled feet.  A painful heaviness welled up inside her.  Before the moment could grow darker, she forced herself to raise her eyes and add playfully, "I suppose it is very torrid of me to suppose myself Guinevere, isn't it?" 

Torrid?  He liked that idea.  Breaking out in a howl, his whole body shook with laugher and, she joined him. 

How Lavender could be so blind, she wondered.  Why could so few people see it?  Even his own family missed what was so obvious to her.   Everything she needed to know about him could be read at a glance.  He had no secrets, not even that he liked her.  Of course, he _tried_ to keep it secret.  He had _tried_ very hard.  Keeping secrets just did not come easily to him.  He wasn't built for it.  

 "Really," she thought, "It's amazing we get away with any of the things we do."  Still, she preferred him as an open book and he had so many other wonderful qualities.  

Suddenly they were kissing again.  She couldn't remember who had started it this time. It was just happening and she couldn't help wondering if this was how all of literature's heroines felt.  With her body pressed against his lanky frame as she rose on her toes to meet his lips, she mused that he did not seem much like a storybook hero.  She tried to imagine Heathcliff with red hair and freckles, David Copperfield sucking on the end of a sugar quill, Wavern Magsley holding a half-transfigured weasel.  

  
But then came the image of him fighting to get at Malfoy or wincing in pain as he stood up to protect Harry.  He was wonderful and she smiled against his lips deciding that he could have morning breath if he liked so long as he didn't move. 

Whatever the books said, she didn't care.  She didn't care that Lavender had said they "fought too much to ever be couple". Shove Lavender! What did she know?  What did it matter that everybody else saw Harry Potter first?  Ron Weasley was her hero and if that made her a secondary character, Hermione Granger didn't mind one bit.  She was the unlikeliest heroine in the world anyway.


End file.
